


Her Sweet Kiss

by Mystralist



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Clueless Geralt, F/M, Jealous and protective Jaskier, Love Triangles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:53:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22592821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystralist/pseuds/Mystralist
Summary: Geralt hates Jaskier's compositions! Especially his latest one in which the bard has the nerve to comment openly on what he thinks about a certain witch who has made Geralt's life a bit complicated, to say the least. That the song bears an additional layer to it, is something Geralt has to gradually discover for himself.This little one-shot was born out of Jaskier's song 'Her Sweet Kiss' from The Witcher soundtrack.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 6
Kudos: 148





	Her Sweet Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This story does not follow any specific timeline from the series. Yennefer knows about Geralt's wish, however Geralt never sent Jaskier away.

This town was not Geralt’s town. The moment he had ridden in (with Jaskier trotting behind at his heels. Or, more precisely, Roaches hooves), this place had gone out of its way to flip him off. This led to Geralt’s temperament to unhinge completely two days later, when a job didn’t pay as expected:

‘We said 60 copper coins, human.’  
‘I know, I know, Master Witcher, Sir. But my mare broke her leg yesterday. Poor beast, she was only four summers old. I had to shoot her and get a new one right away. 10 coppers was the cheapest I could find on the market. B-But I still can pay you 50!’  
‘I don’t give a fuck about your sob story. 60 copper coins were the agreement. 60 copper coins I want.’  
‘B-But I don’t have it, Master Witcher. Please. I am just a simple farmer, without a horse I cannot plough my fields. I needed a new beast.’  
‘No. You needed me to get rid of a beast pest. I did that for you last night. Now pay. One way or another.’  
Geralt’s patience was spent. He grabbed the stuttering man by the collar and slammed him against the tavern wall, holding him there.  
The frightened man wiggled helplessly with his feet in the air. ‘M-Master Witcher. Please. I beg you. M-Maybe the Law of Surprise would-‘  
‘No. Did that once. Not getting involved with destiny again.’  
The farmer fished out a little leather pouch and held it out with a shaking hand. ‘P-Please. This is all I’ve got. Sir Witcher. Please.’ he kept stammering.  
Then, his face turned red and he opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water when Geralt pressed against his throat.  
‘Last chance for you, human.’ he growled.

‘Geralt! Whatever is the matter here?’ a melodic voice filled the air. The witcher rolled his eyes.  
Jaskier had appeared, just jumping down from Roach.  
‘Now when did this bond happen?’ Geralt asked. The tone of his voice was anything but approving.  
‘You know me. No girl can escape my charm.’ Jaskier winked.  
Geralt looked almost disgusted, giving his mare a look as if to say ‘I’ve taught you better’.  
Then, he noticed the bards appearance. His hair was a wild mess, his white tunic was pulled out of his purple pants, hanging open on his sides. His exposed chest rose and sank rapidly.  
‘What happened to you?’ he asked his friend.  
‘To me? Oh, nothing. Nothing. Everything is jolly.’ Jaskier said too quickly.  
‘What did you run from?’ Geralt wanted to know.  
‘Nothing, Geralt. Relax! Just a little ride out to get the inspiration going for my next ballade. You know. From last night. ‘The White Wolf against his Pack’, or something like that. I’m telling you, creativity is lacking today. But I’ll get there. Don’t worry. Giving me all the details would help, by the way. This way I do not have to suck everything out of my bottom, just so you can later say that I sway away too much from the facts.’ Jaskier complained.  
Geralt had stopped listening after the first sentence and brought his attention back to the farmer who was still dangling from his hand.  
‘M-Master Witcher-‘  
‘Shut up.’ Geralt hissed, using his free hand to search the man’s pockets.  
‘Uh. Geralt. What are you doing?’ Jaskier asked.  
‘That fucker doesn’t pay.’ Geralt said, still searching.  
‘Looks to me he desperately wants you to take his little money bag.’ Jaskier pointed out.  
‘He is trying to cheat me. For 10 coppers.’ the witcher explained.  
Quick like a fox Jaskier snatched the money out of the man’s hand and emptied it in his palm. ‘Oh, my dear friend, this is plenty! Look at all the spinning coins. Come on, let the poor soul go. I think he might be half dead by now.’  
‘I never finish a job only half. Half dead is not good enough yet.’ He pinned the farmer even harder against the wall, closing his air way completely now. He saw the man’s eyes roll back into his head, and weak arms that came up in a last attempt to plead. Gerald glanced at them. They were old, weathered hands. Covered in little scars and cuts, knuckles thick with gout. The hands of an honest man with a life time of hard labour.  
‘Okay. Okay. Geralt. Enough now. You are positively killing him. Everyone is watching. Come now.’ the bard became serious, gently putting his hands on the witcher’s, trying to loosen them from his victim.  
Geralt let go, and the farmer slid to the floor like a sack of potatoes, groaning weakly.  
‘I will come by your farm tomorrow at dawn. You better have the missing 10 coppers by then. Or I take that new shiny mare of yours instead.’ Geralt threatened, before turning and heading inside the tavern.

Jaskier looked around helplessly at all the people staring, taking in the dead silence. ‘Sorry.’ he smiled awkwardly. ‘He is normally not that… stingy. Could… could someone get this poor man’s wife? Yes. Great. That would be… marvellous, thank you. He will be alright. He is fine. Uhm. I will be singing you good people some songs in the tavern to shake that little scare. What do you say?’

‘Jaskier.’ Geralt’s head appeared in the tavern door. Jaskier hurried inside.

\---

‘You will be gone by the morrow. Or there will be consequences. Do you understand?’ the tavern owner told them darkly as they sat down at his bar.  
‘Shut up and give me something to drink.’ was the witcher’s only response.  
‘Ah. He means ’yes of course, and that we are terribly sorry for all the inconvenience we have caused’.’ the bard quickly added, padding Geralt good-naturedly on his back. ‘Right, Geralt?’  
‘You shut up, too.’  
‘Oh, my. Aren’t we in a splendid mood today. Let me guess. The cause has purple eyes, a questionable smell and an even more questionable attitude.’ Jaskier suggested, finally attending to his tunic and buttoning it.  
The people inside the tavern had looked nosily out of the windows when Gerald had started to make a scene. Now that the entertainment was over, they had gotten back to their chatter and beer; but their eyes would keep wandering to Gerald, as if he was a time bomb going off every second.  
‘Yeah. You don’t like her. I got that by now. No need to rub it in.’ Gerald said.‘Oh, I’m sure you took over the rubbing in well enough last night.’  
Geralt snorted humourlessly.  
‘Let me guess. She was gone in the morning?’  
‘Hmm.’  
‘What did she steal this time? Other than your heart and your ability to use your brain, I mean.’  
‘Not important.’

Jaskier tucked his tunic in his pants, his eyes wandering over his friend. Then, they stopped at the empty sheath on the witcher’s back.  
‘Where’s your sword?’ he asked.  
Instead of answering, Gerald emptied his pint.  
‘Oooh ho ho ho ho ho,’ Jasper laughed in disbelief. ‘No. No! She stole your silver sword?’  
Gerald kept silent, looking stoically straight ahead.  
‘That’s… that’s bad, Geralt. Oh, lords be good. How did you slay the wolves this morning without your sword?’  
‘They were only wolves. Steel was enough. No silver needed.’ Gerald answered.  
Jaskier nodded slowly, his lips twitching. He seemed too have a terribly hard time not to laugh at the situation. ‘Well. That’s good. Good. Just, where will you get a new one? What does our Yen want with a silver sword, anyway?’  
Geralt grunted, which meant he didn’t know either.  
‘You know what, this asks for a song.’ Jaskier suddenly said, pulling out his lute.  
Geralt grimaced. ‘Oh, for fucks sake, Jaskier. No.’

‘Everyone!’ Jaskier announced, flashing his white teeth. ‘As promised, let me pleasure your ears with one of my ballades. I would normally start with my best known piece, but… ah… I guess everyone here knows now that you should indeed always ‘toss a coin to your witcher'. And the agreed amount at that. Anyway, let’s start today with a rather recent composition of mine.’  
Gerald ordered two more pints, intending to get drunk as fast as possible so he could leave this tavern and his warbling minstrel.

Jaskier’s delicate fingers plucked on his flute and he started a song Gerald had not heard before yet.

‘The fairer sex they often call it  
But her love’s as unfair as a crook  
It steals all my reason  
Commits every treason  
Of logic, with naught but a look

A storm breaking on the horizon  
Of longing and heartache and lust’

While singing, Jaskier sat himself casually on a bar stool next to the fire place, his body swaying to his melody.

‘She’s always bad news  
It’s always lose, lose  
So tell me love, tell me love  
How is that just?’

Geralt did not escape the heavy look he was given at that. The witcher rolled his eyes and turned away from the singer. Was this bard for real? He actually came up with a song about Yennefer? If Geralt hadn’t already stretched the hospitality of this town to extremity, he would throw that flamboyant idiot into the cackling fire right about now.

‘But the story is this  
She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss  
Her sweet kiss  
But the story is this  
She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss’

Geralt wished he could just close his ears to this. Instead, he closed his eyes, his fingers clenching around his pint. This way he had no way of knowing that the bard had gotten up again, and was slowly approaching his friend. The next verse was sung passionately right next to Geralt’s right ear and he almost jumped.

‘Her current is pulling you closer  
And charging the hot, humid night  
The red sky at dawn is giving a warning, you fool  
Better stay out of sight’

He seemed to only sing to Geralt now. The witcher was just about to reach out and smash that ridiculous flute, when Jaskier’s voice stopped, the bard completely halting in his movements.  
‘Out of sight. Out of sight!’ he repeated panicky.  
‘What?’ Geralt didn’t understand.  
‘Get me out of sight, Geralt.’ Jaskier urged, jumping behind him and crouching down.  
Geralt looked around for the reason of this odd behaviour and saw a woman with long black braids sticking her had through a window of the tavern, looking around.  
‘Where is he? Where is that sinful little singing cockatoo?’ she asked angrily.  
No one said anything. People had seen just a short while ago what an angry witcher could do. And they would be damned if they would attract that anger towards them for telling on his friend.  
The woman’s head disappeared again, but her voice rang across the main road outside. ‘I SEE YOUR HORSE, YOU FUCKING COWARD! COME OUT I SAY, SO I CAN HACK YOUR LITTLE COCK OFF! DON’T THINK I WON’T FIND YOU EVENTUALLY!’  
She kept insulting and threatening as she stalked off along the street, her voice slowly getting lost in the distance.

‘Phew, that was close.’ Jaskier sighed in relief, jumping out from hiding almost elegantly. ‘Thanks for blocking me, my friend.’ he clapped Geralt on his shoulder.  
‘So this is what you were running from. Another holden maid you soiled and then left her with the ruins of her honour.’ the witcher concluded.  
’N-No. Well. Something like that. But!’ Jaskier tried to object.  
‘And now you are using my horse as a quick escape route.’ Geralt’s voice grew dark.  
‘No! No no no. That was a first, I swear. And not planned at all. I just -‘  
Geralt took the bards collar and heaved him up without any visible effort. For a moment it seemed he wanted to throw him across the bar. But then, just as quickly as the anger had come, it vanished and he let go. ‘I think I need to go to sleep now.’ the witcher groaned, rubbing his eyes.  
‘… What? It is not even noon!’ Jaskier objected, seemingly not distraught at all that he had only barely escaped the mutant’s assault.  
‘Exactly. And I already managed to loose my sword, almost kill the hand that feeds me and now I am getting pissed in a shit hole, drinking shit beer and having to listen to shit songs and tales on how you abuse my horse. We’ll talk about your latest composition at some point, by the way. Don’t think I forget that.’  
‘Ah. Now. I think you need to hear from someone what she is doing to you. And this song-‘  
‘- is shit. And I will go now.’

And before Jaskier could object further, Geralt got up with a heavy sigh and swayed towards the back of the tavern, stairs creaking loudly as he climbed up to the room they had paid for. With each step the world seemed to spin a bit more, and his breath came out irregular.  
‘Fuck.’ he moaned, when the timber floor came up to hit him in the face.

——

A gentle humming filled Geralt’s head when his eyes fluttered open. For a little while he just enjoyed the sensation of the melodic tune. Until his brain caught up and he actually recognised the melody, that was.

‘But the story is this  
She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss  
Her sweet kiss’

He now recognised Jaskier singing quietly to himself while he bustled around the room. Geralt’s yellow eyes followed him for a while, before he stemmed himself up in his straw bed, groaning. The blanket slid down and he saw he was bare chested. Except the white linen that was wrapped around his ribs. ‘What the hell happened to me?’ he asked.  
‘Wakey, wakey, sleeping beauty.’ Jaskier chimed. ‘You passed out on your way to our rooms. Me and some big guys from the tavern carried you in here.’  
‘I don’t pass out from some shitty ale.’ Geralt murmured, sitting up completely now. He let out a curse and touched the side of his ribs.  
Jaskier watched his friend, nodding knowingly. ‘No. But from those wounds you do.’ He pointed at the bandage. ‘From your encounter with the wolves, if I was to make a guess.’  
‘Those were only some scratches.’ the witcher frowned.

Again, Jasper nodded knowingly, popping some peanuts into his mouth. ‘True. Our best guess was that the claws had been soiled with some poisonous secrete. The pack must have feasted on some Insectoids before you killed them, she said. Kikimores, most likely. Their poison still clung to their claws, therefore entering your body and causing an infection.’  
‘Our? She?’ Geralt’s eyes grew.  
‘Yes. She.’ As Geralt’s eyes lit up, Jaskier’s narrowed. He popped the last peanut in his mouth before sitting down on Geralt’s bed. Without looking him in the eyes again, he attended to the witcher’s wound, carefully opening the bandage. Tender touches assessed the scratch marks.  
‘Better. No new puss. Let me put on some more ointment.’ the bard said, pulling out a little dark bottle. Gerald knew who worked with those bottles.  
‘Where is she?’ he asked.  
‘I don’t know. She came and she left. As she always does.’ Jaskier responded, talking to Geralt’s wound.  
‘Hurry up.’ Gerald urged, looking for his clothes.  
Jaskier dropped his hands and sat back, staring at his friend in disbelief. ‘And why again would you want to run after the charming witch who put you in this bed in the first place? I know you didn’t like my song from this morning. But did you by any chance listen for a second to what it said?’  
The witcher exhaled frustrated. ‘For fucks sake, bard. Yennefer doesn’t ‘destroy me with her sweet kiss’. he said in a mocking voice.  
‘Oh. Oh, really? She stole away this morning after whispering sweet nothings in your ear all night, I am sure. Taking your sword with her. Which led to you being hurt and angry in the morning. Which, in turn, made you reckless when fighting those wolves, hence this now.’ Jaskier pointed to the treated wound. ‘And, oh, bonus! You almost killed a guy, and got senseless drunk afterwards. Good for your guild’s reputation, I have no doubt. Everything because that woman plays puppet with you. If that is not destructive behaviour, I don’t know what is.’  
Jaskier was standing now, his chest rising and falling rapidly.  
‘She also helped you treat me.’ the witcher responded, not unkindly, nodding towards the ointment that still rested in the bard’s hand.  
‘She did. She did do that. And yet, Geralt, I must wonder why it is me being here actually caring for you. When it should be her.’  
‘You probably sent her away. Dramatic, as you are.’ the witcher grunted, getting up now.  
Jaskier snorted, shaking his head. ‘You know what? Here.’ he chucked the bandage and the bottle on Geralt’s chest, where he caught it. ‘You are a grown man. You can take care of yourself.’  
And he turned and left the room.

—-

The night sky was sprinkled with stars by the time Geralt exited the tavern. The air felt heavy with rain, as if a storm was approaching in the distance. He looked the street up and down. His amulet started vibrating slightly, so she could not be far. He followed the increasing vibrations a few houses up, until the smell of lilac and gooseberries hit him. He stopped in his tracks and looked into a dark narrow alleyway, thinking he saw a faint glint. Geralt followed it, his eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness.

There she stood, a long silver sword leaning against the wall next to her.  
‘I thought you might want this back.’ she said.  
Geralt stepped forward, taking his belonging and sheathing it onto his back, the feeling of incompletion finally extinguished.  
‘What did you need it for?’ he asked.  
‘What you need it for.’  
‘Didn’t know you were planning on taking up my profession. I must warn you, the pay is shit.’  
Yennefer didn’t smile, just pinned him down with purple eyes.  
‘This is about finding the Djinn, isn’t it?’ Gerald asked.  
Yennefer nodded.  
‘Ever considered that I could help?’  
‘I don’t trust you.’ she said.  
‘The feeling is mutual.’  
Now she smiled. As always, it looked more sinister than sincere. ‘Sorry for stealing it.’  
‘That’s not the first thing you stole from me. But the first time you apologise.’ Geralt said.  
‘Believe it or not, your little minstrel puppy actually made me feel bad for a second. Told me I had to stay, look after you.’  
Gerald snorted, a mild surprise on his face. ‘Jaskier.’ he murmured.  
‘He talks a lot.’ Yennefer went on.  
‘Yeah. He does.’  
‘And he doesn’t like me.’  
‘I don’t think you want people to like you.’ Gerald mused.  
‘You like me.’ Yennefer said.  
‘Well. See where that got me.’ he said, spreading his arms.  
‘You duck yourself that hole, Geralt. You and your stupid wish.’  
Geralt sighed, scratching his neck. ‘I told you before, Yen. This is not -‘  
‘It is. And I will get rid of it. For both our sakes. And then a little ‘thank you’ wouldn’t go amiss.’ she added, her lips twitching. ‘I have to go now.’  
As she passed him, she reached up, attempting to kiss him. Geralt let himself be pulled towards her, but turned his head slightly, so that her lips touched his cheek instead. She did not seem to mind this. ‘Take care, Geralt.’

Geralt inhaled her intoxicating scent deeply, closing his eyes. ‘So long, Yen.’ he said, as she disappeared into the night.

——-

Geralt took his time walking back to the tavern. He saw Roach wandering about the deserted street, evidently looking for some tasty hay . The witcher clicked his tongue, then whistled. The mare rose her head immediately and came trotting towards him, neighing affectionately. ‘Did you rip yourself lose again, old girl?’ he asked her, stroking her neck. Roach snorted loudly, before trying to dig her nose into Geralt’s pockets. The witcher laughed a raspy laugh. ‘Gluttonous as always. I will have to soon extend your saddle belt.’  
He took his horse by the reigns and guided her back to the tavern staple. 

‘Come on, let’s get you settled for the night.’ he murmured, and took off Roach’s halter. She neighed approvingly, and Geralt got her some oats in her trough. While she hungrily munched her dinner, Gerald padded her shoulder, then started to untie the saddle still on her back.  
In the dim candle light, something bright magenta caught his eye. Geralt frowned as he slowly pulled a silky cloth out of one of the saddle bags. It looked like something Jaskier would wear, except that the witcher had never seen this piece to be part of the bard’s wardrobe.  
He was just about to stash it into one of his pockets, when his witcher senses caught a heartbeat and a shaky breath. ‘Show yourself.’ he said in his deep voice, one hand flying automatically over his shoulder.  
’N-No, please!’ he heard, and a man came up from behind the staple door, his arms thrown up in surrender.  
‘Who are you? What do you want?’ Geralt asked sharply, his eyes flicking across the man, trying to find a hint of his intentions.  
He was tall and broad shouldered, with long blonde hair which was partially tied to the back. He made an imposing figure, a soldier maybe. Or a guard of sorts. But he did not wear any weapons. That made Geralt relax a bit. ‘Speak!’ he said.  
‘I - … um… please, Witcher, don’t hurt me. I have no ill intentions. I just lost something.’ he said.  
‘Here? In my horse’s staple?’ Geralt asked doubtfully.  
‘I just saw you holding it. The.. the silk jacket.’  
Gerald pulled out the magenta cloth again. ‘This?’ he asked.  
‘Yes! That’s mine.’ the man said, holding out his hand.  
‘How did your jacket end up in my horse’s saddle?’ Gerald asked.  
‘Oh, I… er…. I had just lent it to one of your friends this morning. He rode away with your horse.’ the man explained, snatching the jacket out of Geralt’s hand. ‘Sorry for any inconvenience, Witcher. It’s just, this is a really expensive jacket. Jaskier will tell you, you can only get those in Temeria.’  
But Geralt was barely listening, the wheels in his head turning.

He was just about to ask the man something, when he turned, looking agitated. ‘Anyways, thank you for giving it back. And, tell Jaskier, whenever he is in town again, my window is open.’ he winked, before running into the night.  
Geralt exited the staple and looked after the man, utter confusion on his face. Then, only moments later, he saw the woman with the long black braids from this morning approaching.  
‘Ha, there you are!’ she called out, only to stop short when she came close to Geralt. ‘Oh. I’m sorry, I thought you were my husband. You have his stature and hair. Of sorts.’  
Up close Geralt noticed how worried she looked.  
‘Have you been looking for him this morning, too?’ Gerald asked.  
‘What? Oh, no. I was looking for that poor excuse of a poet, or whatever he calls himself. I am telling you, if I catch him again with my husband now, I will skin both of their dwarven cocks and feed it to my pigs. It is bad enough that these singing idiots travel through here, turning all the women’s heads into jelly with their dull melodies and poetry. But now they go for our good men, too? What times do we live in, witcher, tell me. What times.’ She seemed to talk more to herself than him, and did not wait for an answer to her question. Shaking her head, she kept on going, her long skirts ruffling away.

——

As Geralt appeared from the corner to the tavern’s back entrance, he heard Jaskier’s voice. He stopped and looked up. Two stories up, the window shutters were wide open and on the sill Jaskier was sitting, looking into the distance with his hands dancing effortlessly across the strings of his lute.

‘I’m weak my love, and I am wanting  
If this is the path I must trudge  
I welcome my sentence  
Give to you my penance  
Garrotter, jury and judge

But the story is this  
She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss  
Her sweet kiss’

Geralt listened to Jaskier’s singing, taking in the verses of the song he had not heard yet. He would deny it to his last breath, but he found the bard’s voice quite pleasant. The clear tunes which could be soft as fine rain drops, but also strong and full like thunder striking always seemed to soothe him. Jaskier’s songs remained shit though, no one would ever convince him otherwise. And yet. As he was standing there, watching his friend sing into the night and reflecting on the strange events of this day, he couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something. Something obvious. Something that was right in front of him, staring him in the face. And yet he couldn’t make it out. When he tried to reach for it, it would slip right out of his grip and dissolve.

‘But the story is this  
She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss  
Her sweet kiss  
But the story is this  
She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss  
Her sweet kiss’

He wondered what this song really was about. He didn’t really know why he wondered that, it seemed clear enough. And he had never thought Jaskier to be someone to pack deeper meanings into a ballade (or himself to be someone who would unpack one). But maybe he did not give the bard enough credit. People liked his songs well enough by now. He had vowed to put Geralt’s adventures into songs, writing history with them. And in his exaggerating, dramatic way he did. All the Northern lands seemed to know about the White Wolf by now. Jaskier’s songs had made the witcher approachable. Admired by some, even. The veil of mystic heroism that Jaskier had drawn around him drew people in, made them curious rather than fearful. Although the fear in their eyes never completely vanished. A shard of mistrust would always remain.  
And this, for the first time, made Geralt realise that Jaskier was the only person he knew who had never had that glint of fear at one point or another in his eyes. Ever.

———

The first light of dawn had not yet touched the horizon, and the little town was still asleep. Jaskier bound his lute tighter around his shoulders as he walked along the road out of town. Some geese that had slept at the road side sprang up, loudly complaining about the disturber as they waddled away. Jaskier ignored them, kicking little stones as he walked along. The air was humid and thick, however the promise of a storm had never fulfilled. Maybe it had changed course.

Faint hooves could be heard, and the bard automatically walked out of the way to let them pass.  
The hoof sounds grew louder, then came to a halt behind him. ‘And where are you going?’  
The bard turned around, seeing Geralt mounted on Roach, a second horse in his tow.  
‘Leaving town. You heard our lovely tavern owner yesterday. I am not keen on a bruised eye or a broken rib. And you? I thought you left with Yennefer. Did you collect the 10 Copper coins from the poor farmers man?’  
‘No. Bought his new mare instead. And before I get this reproachful look of yours. I paid him twice her worth. That should get him a proper farm horse this time.’ Gerald said as he pulled on the rope in his hand and the grey horse pattered forward.  
Jaskier frowned. ‘Why?’  
‘Thought you walked behind me long enough now. Slows me down tremendously.’ Geralt said, holding out the rope to Jaskier.  
The bard looked at the rope, then at Geralt. A smile spread across his face. ‘Well. Would you look at that. The big angry mutant can actually be nice if he puts his mind to it.’  
‘Please don’t make me regret this instantly, and just take the damn horse.’ Gerald growled, which made Jaskier grin even wider. He took the rope and looked at the young beast admiringly. Then he swung himself effortlessly on her back and taking up the reigns. ‘Well. Allow me at least a ‘thank you’.’  
The witcher’s lips twitched upwards. ’Granted. Now, let’s keep moving. I have a feeling that tavern monkey has already gathered some old drunk soldiers to chase us out.’

And with that both men gave their horses the heels and they galloped away; towards the now dawning horizon, which threw faint yellow rays across the still black sky.

\-- THE END // KONIEC --

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this silly little nonsense <3!
> 
> English is not my native language, and the text was only beta read by me, so please excuse any grammatical errors.  
> I am not completely certain copper is the right currency for the Northern lands, nor have I any clue if Temeria would be the place to acquire a fancy magenta silk jacket.
> 
> If you would like a continuation of this little story, please let me know!
> 
> Also, feel free to leave a kudo and/or a comment, any feedback is highly appreciated.


End file.
